Tuesday, September 7, 2010

So.Personally, I think a crushed ego is much harder to repair than a crushed heart. One thousand times easier. A broken heart causes me to write pretty things, and listen to sad songs, and call all my friends, and cry in the shower. It's a perfect excuse to eat cookie dough for breakfast. And, since it's based on something very true and charitable (love), it's so much easier to move-on. At least, you're getting over something constructive.

A crushed ego is just embarrassing. You have to get over yourself. (Not as pretty as getting over someone else). Shoot.

This weekend, I drowned my humiliation in campfire smoke and double stuffed oreos. Except, I ended up regretting the oreos because it meant I could only stand one s'more. Anyways, there's something about aspens, old barns, small white houses, log cabins, and sleeping bags.... I poked a burning log until it was just ash, I let the heat burn my face off, and then my friend and I drove up as high as we could, to look at the stars.We were trying to find Camelopardalis (which the book said was a giraffe), and Cetus (the whale).

The milky way was overwhelming.There were too many stars.We could find the big dipper, the north star, cassiopeia, and the little dipper, but the rest of the sky was just a maze. We were lost (which was okay because we saw two meteorites)(and instead of wishing, we yelled out loud).

In the morning, we drove to a small-town hardware store. When we walked inside, the radio was playing Jackson. There's nothing like June's voice sayin' we got married in a fever hotter than a pepper sprout... (Later, after the store owner helped us in the lightbulb section, we could hear him singing (very loud): I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die).

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Georgia O'Keefe

"The summer I spent in Taos I sometimes rode out to the eastern hills late in the afternoon with the sun at my back. No one else seemed to go there. When the sun went down and was not shining in my eyes I would ride back to the Pueblo. The plain was covered with the grey sage that in a few places crept up a bit against the base of the mountains, looking like waves lapping against the shore. It was a widewide quiet area. But out in those hills I picked up mussel shells in groups all turned to stone—probably millions of years old. They sometimes even had a little bit of the original blue color. I carried them back and left them somewhere in the unknown. I haven’t seen any more shells like them and haven’t seen a sea of sage like that either."

Love is the ultimate outlaw

"Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as its accomplice. instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words make and stay become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free." —Tim Robbins

The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life — the life God is sending one day by day. ~The Collected Works of C.S. Lewis